


47 - Underwear

by AetherAria



Series: 69 Love Stories [3]
Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Tentacles, sex and angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7910011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AetherAria/pseuds/AetherAria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sleep-deprived Megamind accidentally sees more than he meant to, leading to some surprising revelations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	47 - Underwear

**Author's Note:**

> The 69 Love Stories fics are unrelated one-shots, each inspired by a different song from the album 69 Love Songs, by The Magnetic Fields.
> 
> The particular headcanon I've based Megamind's body on in this fic is courtesy of setepenre_set.

Minion was against springing a plan today; what did Minion know?

Megamind rubbed his eyes a bit violently, irritated by the cold air whistling between the skyscrapers as he zoomed between them on his bike. Minion had also been against Megamind personally performing the kidnapping today, but Megamind had been cooped up in the lair Plotting and overseeing construction of their solar-powered satellite for nearly three days now (Minion insisted it was four, but that couldn’t be correct), he deserved a bit of fresh air, and this had absolutely nothing to do with seeing Miss Ritchi. Of course not. Minion was giving him that _look_ for absolutely no reason, yes of course he would be making this same decision even if he was well rested, yes, Minion, _yes_ everything is _fine_.

He scowled at nothing, accelerating slightly. He didn’t have long to get to Roxanne’s apartment before she got home. Monday, Wednesday and Thursday she had standing lunch dates with her coworkers, Wayne, and her coworkers again respectively, but Tuesday and Friday she came home for lunch, so today Megamind would have an easy opportunity to scoop her up. He parked the hoverbike on the balcony, dehydrating her grill and hiding the bike underneath the tarp in its place, feeling downright clever about that one.

He rubbed his hands together with a manic sort of glee once he was inside. It had been too long since he had gone hands-on with a kidnapping, really. Why had he been avoiding it? Bah. She wouldn’t know what _hit_ her. He would surprise her! Not just the typical Minion gas-and-bag affair, no, he was far more Evil and Clever than that! He spun in place, looking for the perfect hiding spot and disappointed when he realized how open her living space was. Very few decent spots to spring out from with a flourish. He would need to get creative about this.

Eventually, after a few minutes of careful consideration, he closed himself into her bedroom closet, hiding between a silky red dress and some strappy black halter thing, neither of which he had ever seen Roxanne wear, which seemed like more of a crime to him then the last three of his schemes combined. He shook away the thought of her in something strappy, then nestled in to wait for her to come traipsing in unawares, right into his oh so clever trap.

Roxanne… Roxanne had a lot of very soft clothing.

 

Megamind’s eyes flew open in the dark and he knew instantly that he had lost ten hours and thirty seven minutes. _Fuck_. Fuck sleep and its iron grip on his time, he was busy he didn’t have time to take a break and rest, he had Science and Evil to Plan, he couldn’t just- he shook off the internal rant, feeling around and trying to make his eyes adjust to the dimness. He was sitting on a storage container and his head was pillowed on a poofy sweater. Roxanne’s poofy sweater, he remembered it from-

He carefully shifted back to his feet, crouching under coat hangers and trying to decide whether or not this day could possibly be salvaged. It was almost eleven by now; there wouldn’t be much of an audience if he kidnapped Miss Ritchi at this time of night, but it seemed like too much of a shame (and too much like a defeat) to just slink off home after all this trouble. He was stretching the ache out of his neck when he heard-

Was that a-

Moan?

Megamind froze in place for a long moment, listening intently, unsure what to expect.

A breathy exhale, the soft rustle of fabric, and, distinctly, another moan.

Megamind’s eyes widened in the dark, and then narrowed. He very, very carefully edged closer to the door and pressed just the pads of his fingers to the wood, and peeked through the crack warily. She was- she was probably just dreaming. That was all. Right?

There were two candles, burning low on her bedside table. Roxanne was stretched out on the bed in her underwear, with the covers kicked down below her feet. She had a hand on her bare chest, and the fingers of her other hand were flicking against her panties.

Megamind flushed with the oddest combination of arousal, terror and shame. Roxanne was absolutely going to kill him when she found out he had seen this, but he had no choice whatsoever but to reveal himself now. He couldn’t just- he couldn’t just sit here and- he was a villain, he wasn’t a creepy pervert _voyeur_. Roxanne was a professional, their relationship was professional and despite any lingering attraction ( _you can admit you’re in love with her in your own head, genius_ ) it would be so utterly, grossly inappropriate to stay here right now, she would _never_ forgive him, he had to leave immediately or-

She was biting her lip, her head tossed to the side as her fingers moved, rubbing a slow rhythmic circle through her underwear and Megamind was staring he was _still staring_. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, swallowing hard and trying to force himself to think. _Think_ , genius. There _has_ to be a safe way out of this situation.

Her hips bucked, drawing his attention back in, and he realized that her pace was speeding, going from languid to determined. She gasped, and he bit his own tongue to keep himself from gasping in response, his entire brain co-opted by the way her lips looked, glistening wet in the candlelight. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to gather his willpower, and he was lifting his hand to push the door open, to announce himself and begin what was likely to be a year-long campaign of apology when-

“Megamind…”

He stopped breathing entirely for about twelve seconds, but when no following screams or accusations were forthcoming he realized that she hadn’t spotted him preemptively. The way she had said his name, his brain went fuzzy around the edges, she had said his name so… he clenched his teeth together and risked another glance out the door.

She rolled her entire body up into the rhythm of her fingers, her other hand reached up to grip one of her pillows, and when her mouth fell open with a muffled, humming moan, she whispered his name again and started to touch herself faster.

No. This had to be some sort of- joke, it was completely impossible that- Roxanne couldn’t possibly think of him like- _no_. That was _impossible_.

“Fuck,” she hissed, her back arching away from the bed, “Megamind, _yes_ , oh fuck-”

It was so fucking hard to think with all his blood rushing in the opposite direction from his brain. Focus focus focus. Focus. Think. He fisted his hands at his sides to keep them from doing anything else, and finally a solution slotted into place when his knuckles brushed against his utility belt and he heard the muffled jingle of keys. _Keys_. Dammit, of course. He delicately lifted his key ring from the pocket in his belt, trying to keep as silent as possible, and hit the automatic start button. Out on the balcony, the hoverbike roared dully to life, and back in the bedroom Roxanne cursed, flailed, and wound up dragging her sheet onto the floor as she scrambled for the bathroom chanting a mantra of, “Oh shit- not now, why _now_? Not now not now not-” before the bathroom door slammed shut behind her.

Megamind knew he only had a few seconds. He crept from the closet as quietly as he could, then utilized an entire lifetime’s worth of breaking-and-entering experience to exit the bedroom noiselessly. Once he was safely out and the door was shut again behind him, he bolted, leaving the balcony door open in his wake and not even bothering to rehydrate Roxanne’s grill before he and the hoverbike thundered off into the dark.

She didn’t need to know. He was blushing so hard he thought his face might actually look a _human_ shade of pink. She didn’t have to _know_. Oh hell he couldn’t believe he managed that exit with all of his limbs intact and the next kidnapping was going to be a goddamn nightmare of awkward but that was fine he could _cope_ with that, at least Roxanne wouldn’t look at him and think-

When he got back to the lair he waved off Minion’s concern with a shouty non-explanation and locked himself immediately into his bedroom, tearing his suit open in record time because there was no other possible way for him to deal with this right now. How could anyone in the world look at Roxanne doing that and not- and not need to-

He crawled onto his bed still with his suit hanging off of his shoulders and pressed his palm down against his sex with a stuttered exhale, overcome by the thought of her mouth, her arching back, her hands. He was so close already that he only needed to drag his hand along his slit twice before his tentacles extended, slick tendrils twining with his fingers as he hissed in relief.

He twisted his wrist, gripping and tugging his writhing sex as his other hand clenched and scrabbled at his sheets. He knew this wouldn’t last, but he just had to get this out of his system because-

Roxanne, moaning his name.

Roxanne, moaning _his_ name.

Roxanne was moaning his _name_ with her hands all over her own body and even with his remarkable mind he couldn’t think of a single other way to interpret that, there was nothing else that could mean except-

Roxanne Ritchi fantasized about having sex. With _him_.

That thought and the accompanying rush of pleasure were enough and he tightened his grip, choking out noises beyond his control as he came.

(His mind went white, but it still wasn’t enough to bleach out the image of her, splayed out in pleasure, mouth wrapped around the syllables that made his name. He wasn’t sure if anything would be enough to wipe that away.)

He panted out one breath, then two, shocked by the intensity- but it was only another moment before his tentacles pulsed against his hand and the need came surging back. He groaned, then rolled onto his back, lifted his other hand to drag down his neck and then scratched along his collarbone. He twined his tentacles with the fingers of his other hand, gripping more roughly this time, and the thought came unbidden-

_Bet when she fantasizes you she doesn’t imagine this._

A different sort of pulse, pain lancing his chest. It was- probably true. Roxanne had no way of knowing that- knowing what- knowing about any of Megamind’s physical attributes beneath the costume. That was simply, objectively true. He just wished he hadn’t had the thought when he still needed so desperately to come a second time (there was a _reason_ he never did this, a reason it had been months since he’d last-).

He tried to pull the original feeling back. Roxanne wanting him. Roxanne thinking of him like that. He scratched along the outside shell of his ear simultaneous to a particularly rough hand motion, biting his lip to keep from moaning. He didn’t understand why, couldn’t wrap his head around it, but the evidence was there and it was clear Roxanne had some level of sexual interest in him.

Whether or not that interest could ever survive her actually _seeing_ him like this was less clear.

He growled in frustration, tried to refocus. Something besides his nightmare of a body. Anything else. Fine, okay, he couldn’t think about his- the parts of him that would disgust her.

Roxanne saw his face almost daily and she was still (demonstrably, undeniably) attracted to him, so it could be reasonably assumed that she was not repulsed by him above the neck, at least? He tried to think that again, in a less convoluted, less questioning way. Roxanne could be assumed to have some attraction to his face. Okay. Safe starting point. So what does that mean, that Roxanne would look at the sharp almost-symmetry of his face and find something she liked there?

He imagined kissing her, suddenly, imagined pressing his lips against the soft pale skin of her neck and Roxanne tilting her head up and away and encouraging him to do it again. He almost sobbed with the jolt of pleasure that image sent shocking through him. He imagined her hands on his face, cupping his cheeks, fingertips gentle on his jawbone, and he moaned, pressing up into his own hand. He imagined her holding his face with delicacy, imagined her expression-

It was a look she gave him only rarely. Raised eyebrow, ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, eyes twinkling with amusement and some sort of suppressed-

Fondness.

His second orgasm was less intense, softer lapping waves instead of a single overwhelming tsunami, and he let the pulses of bliss fade off naturally. He untangled his hand as his tentacles retracted, too sensitive now. He panted, groaned, felt his breathing begin to slow. He felt the intensity of the evening begin to eke away, her smile still glimmering in his imagination.

Almost like a gift, like _she_ was giving him a gift, he was subsumed into sleep before even a hint of his guilt could trouble him.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I'd be remiss if I didn't mention- I'm not really sure how I feel about this fic? The voyeurism makes /me/ uncomfortable, but I really just needed to write this and get it out of my system. There may be a follow-up fic at some point to kind of... soften the edges, give some closure, all that jazz, but I can't make any guarantees.


End file.
